Page 45 of The Refiner

“A prisoner?” Astor quirks a brow, fighting off a grin that I’m sure my sister thought was downright adorable.

“Yes, a prisoner. I want to leave. Now.”

He stands, pushing me back a step. “And do what?”

Well, I can’t just say “have a meltdown” now, can I? “I need to pack my sister’s things and see if she wrote down her funeral wishes.”

Astor nods, pushing past me toward the kitchen. “We’ll go tomorrow.”

My mouth drops open. “There will be no we. You either take me Piper’s right now, or I’ll call an Uber.” Just who in the hell does he think he’s talking to? No man runs me. No matter how sweet his intentions might be.

He grins, completely unfazed. “Can I make you something to eat?”

“Are you planning on ignoring my demands?” Gah, has no one ever told this man no?

“I plan on making you something to eat. You haven’t eaten all day, and before I drive you home, I want to make sure you’ve at least eaten something.”

Ugh! “I hate when you do this!”

“Do what?”

Now he wants to be charming. He knows exactly what I’m talking about, and you know what? I refuse to play into his games. If he wants to play nice guy, I’ll let him. “Fine. I’ll eat. What are you cooking?”

For once, he looks sheepish. “How does casserole sound? Halle said the ladies at the office baked enough to keep us fed for a couple of weeks.”

He saysus,like Tatum will actually eat solids. Because I know he isn’t sayingusas in him and me. I agreed to stay and help him with Tatum. I didn’t promise to play house with him. “How considerate of your employees.”

“They are. Especially the ones trying to get in good with my brother.” He spoons out more food than I’ll eat in a week.

“Sounds like a firing offense to me.” This is why women get a bad rep in the workplace. The last thing I want to do is flirt with the men in my office. Smother them, maybe, but definitely not flirt. I can’t even imagine baking Ass Face a casserole.

“For being nice?” Astor chuckles. “Seems like a PR nightmare waiting to happen.”

He pops the plate in the microwave and sets the timer.

Unfortunately, I’ve taken several steps closer, looking like I’m actually interested in this conversation. “I mean, they are flirting in the workplace.”

He cocks a brow. “Have you never kept the day interesting with a little flirting among coworkers?”

The words,like you did with my sister,are on the tip of my tongue, but I hold them back. I’m tired of hating the world—hating Astor—who is making it seriously difficult to continue to do so anyway. “The day I flirt with the men at my office will be when I drown myself in a gas station sink. There is no excuse for flirting where I work.”

I admitted too much. I realize it when Astor’s brows nearly reach his hairline. “I don’t know if I should be shocked you have a punishment already planned for yourself or the fact you’re so passionate about it.”

Let me clear this up right now. “I don’t like men, especially ones at my office.”

“Any particular reason?”

I pull out a chair and roll my eyes. “Is there any particular reason you’re prying?” My sister may have shared all the pillow talk with this man, but I will do no such thing.

“Just curious where all this hostility comes from.”

It comes from always being the one who worked weekends and nights just so she could pitch an idea to the boss and have him take the credit.

It comes from the guy I slept with in college only using me to get the answers to the midterm he didn’t study for.

It comes from the boy next door who asked me to prom only to spread a rumor about me when I wouldn’t show him my tits in the back seat.

It comes from my TA at college who proposed I drop under the desk and blow my way to an A.

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